


he feels too much

by theElsker



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-04
Updated: 2017-08-04
Packaged: 2018-12-10 23:52:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11702451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theElsker/pseuds/theElsker
Summary: The nightgown stretched tight as she bent forward. A touch of heat slid through her, and she wondered if she knew what she was doing.





	he feels too much

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a very old prompt - Boone, who dealt with his grief by fucking everything that moved.

The screech of the door echoed through the stillness of the Lucky 38.

Kel kept her eyes on the table in front of her, placing the chipped domino pieces in a line one after another, with an inch of space between them. The pieces were a cold tile, black with white indents, and they clinked as she pulled them from the heap.

Raul gifted them to her a few weeks ago, a birthday present from one of the rooms of a blasted out hotel near Camp McCarran. There were only a few minor nicks, and Raul had polished them until they shone.

The sound of the facet drew her stare. She watched Boone hunch over the large kitchen sink. Water filled his cupped hands as he guzzled it down, and her eyes followed the few drops of water that slipped from the corner of his mouth to trail down his chin.

Kel dropped her gaze back to the dominoes. She had completed several designs earlier that morning with the help of Arcade, their chains becoming more complex every time they could find a moment to set them up.

But now, she arranged them alone under the flickering light.

“Everyone asleep?”

She did not have a design in mind this time. Most days she and Arcade talked strategy, mumbling to each other as they roamed from crumbling town to crumbling town. Raul promised he could fashion some more for her the next time they made it out east to his shack. Sometimes even the others placed down a tile or two when they passed by the kitchen.

Except for Boone, who didn’t care much for games.

“Yes.”

He watched her finish her chain, its reach almost to the end of the table. They had only been back at the Strip for a few days, but she had seen very little of him. Only flashes in these moments before sunrise, beret absent and a heavy, grizzled shadow that grew across his cheeks and tracked down his neck.

“It’s late.”

Veronica had grinned at her when they spotted him stumble in one morning, eyes red rimmed and glassy. Kel had only frowned, pushing a tile into the others until they all collapsed together.

“Not tired.”

He folded his arms and waited as she finished putting down the last piece.

“You going to tip it?”

The stench of liquor and smoke hit her as he drew closer. There was a spot of lipstick on the very edge of his shirt collar, a speck of cherry staining the fraying threads.

“Yes.”

She reached over and toppled the first one, the rush of clinking echoing through room as the tiles fell in a complex ring from the table to the floor. When it was done, he did not offer to help her clear the mess, and she was left to shuffle the tiles away and wander up to the rooms alone.

#

They were at The Tops often enough to be recognized, and Cass and Arcade to be served at the bar the moment they slumped into the seats. The group often sat hunched together, out of place next to the carefully pressed suits and dresses, too tired to do much else but order rounds and listen to the gossip of the strangers that sat beside them.

All except for Boone, who never stayed with them for long. His caps flooded the packed tables and the fingers of the women who pressed themselves against him. Kel watched as his hands graze the smooth skin of their shoulders and back and, if it was late enough, their breasts.

He called for hit after hit, transferring chips in and out of his pile. Impulsively. Recklessly. And much later in the night, when the rush of the casino died down, Boone always followed a pair of curved hips up to the rooms above.

#

The next night did not vary much from the last, except when Boone caught her staring once between the swirling mass of people, his own gaze steady and unblinking, even as his hand crept up the inside of a woman’s thigh.

Kel did not look at him again after that.

#

The chain wrapped around the table and down to the floor, beginning to branch in every direction. Arcade had drunkenly staggered into the branches enough times for her to push him out of the kitchen and to the elevator. Even hours later, she could still taste the alcohol from earlier in the night, the sourness sliding down her throat each time she swallowed.  
It was nearing sunrise when she heard his stumbling gait, only moments before the door banged open.

His labored breathing filled the small room.

She did not turn to greet him.

Instead, Kel adjusted the thin strap of her sheer nightgown, one she had found in a dresser on one of the lower floors. It stretched tightly as she bent forward across the table to reach for another tile. A touch of heat slid through her, and she wondered if she knew what she was doing.

It was minutes before she heard him move again, his boots scraping on the floor as the door fell shut behind him.

#

It was only a few nights later when she stood at the table again, the dominoes sprawled haphazardly across the table and a few spread across the floor. She had stayed in alone, waving off the others hours ago on their way to the Tops.

When the door banged open again, Kel turned from her work to watch Boone step into the room, his big frame pushing through the doorway.

“You got something to say to me?”

His shirt was stained and his eyes bloodshot, but his gaze held steady and fixed. Kel let her shoulders rise and fall as her fingers grazed the edge of gown fluttering at her thighs.

“I don’t need your goddamn pity.”

The door slammed shut.

“I see it every time I walk into a damn room.”

He took one step towards her.

“Every fucking time you look at me.”

Then another step in jerked, sudden movements.

“Spit it out or keep it to yourself.”

She remained silent, lifting her chin and holding his gaze.

When he moved, it was too fast to follow. Her body flung forward as he shoved her onto the table, her chest bruising against the wood. The dominos collapsed and scattered as his body hovered over hers, and the chill of the floor beneath her feet did nothing to quell the spark that began to unravel itself in her belly.

“What do you want?” His breath brushed her ear. A hand crept up her spine before his body fitted flush to hers. She could feel him there, nestled between her legs. Running her tongue across her lips, she raised herself on the tips of her toes and pushed her ass against him.

“I don’t fuck coworkers.” He rasped even as fingers found the back of thigh and trailed upwards, where a calloused palm explored the skin at her hip.

“I don’t want it.” He thrust against her. Her body arched back into him and her breasts, threatening to slip from the gown, scraped against the table.

“I don’t want to feel it.” His lips were at her ear again. “I don’t want to feel you.”

“Boone.” 

It slips out in a whisper, and the hand at her hip shot forward to clap around her mouth.

“Don’t.” 

His harsh breaths filled the room and she could feel his erratic heartbeat against her shoulder. Kel’s fingers reached up to gently pull his hand away from her mouth. Then she turned slowly around underneath him and angled forward, letting her mouth find the edge of his. “Tell me.”

“Can’t.”

“Let me help you forget.”

“I don’t deserve—”

His tongue was easy to catch against hers. She licked at him, tasting the drink and the heat. The bristles on his unshaved chin scratched at her as she flicked her tongue forward again and again.

When his shirt pulled free and up over his head, she ran her hands along the broad slopes of his shoulders and down dips and angles of his chest. His skin was crisscrossed with scars, small nicks from a Raider’s knife and deeper, furrowed gashes from a deathclaw near Slough. She followed one down from his shoulder to his hip with her lips, where it disappeared under the band of his pants. Her fingers clutched at the clasp and when his hands knocked hers away to take their place, her lips found the rough underside of his jaw. She licked him there, too.

His belt dropped and she hooked her legs around him, pulling him closer. His body, big and hard, pinned hers to the table. When his hands found her ass, she slid her legs apart, letting the gown scrunch above her waist. She quivered when his cock brushed heavy against her. He was rough and quick inside, and she arched into him, finding his mouth once again. His hands were at her her back, her hips, her thighs and she felt something uncoiling inside her. Something deep in her belly that made her clutch back at him as desperately. So long had she ached for warmth, for touch, for the tightening of her body against his.

She came trembling around him, and he pulled back to watch her as she did. She laid back onto the table, open to him, his eyes locked on everywhere the gown no longer covered, even has he pushed into her over and over.

“Let go.” 

Kel dared let a smile touch her lips at the taut shake of his head.  
“Let go.”

A muscle in his jaw jumped. His eyes snapped shut.

“Boone.”

At the end of it all, he crumpled beside her, his breath ragged and whispering of the things best said at night.


End file.
